Lying Eyes
by SleeplessMan
Summary: A ex-student of Lawndale High thinks about her past. Inspired by the song Lying Eyes, performed by The Eagles


Valentines Day, 2012

The mournful lyrics of The Eagles warbled from the speakers in the cab of Richard "Bud" Connor's red Freightliner as he pulled off the interstate, taking the exit into the little Nevada town. He pulled off the state highway into the graveled lot, his rigs brakes whistling as he came to a full stop. He pulled off his Boston Red Sox baseball cap, combed his thinning blonde hair, and popped a breath mint in his mouth. He took a deep breath, and nerving himself, stepped down out of the cab of his truck, locking the door behind him.

The red lights over the front door of the Morning Glory Gentleman's Club burned brightly in the cold Nevada night. Bud walked nervously across the lot. He had buried himself in his job since his wife Sue had died of cancer two years earlier, to pay off her medical bills, and put his son Robert and daughter Karen through college. Bud had never strayed from his wife while she was alive. He had loved her too much for that. But the long night's on the road, knowing nobody was waiting at home with a smile for him, and that his son and daughter had little in common no matter how much they still tried to be a family, had gotten a little too much for him.

A comment from a fellow driver had given him the idea. "I generally don't go for lot lizards, you know that, Bud," John Walker, a burly driver from New Jersey had said. "Good way to get either busted, robbed, or diseased. But I know this little place in Nevada, a two bit town called Monroe.

It's called the Morning Glory Gentleman's Club. I know that's just a fancy name for a whorehouse. But they treat you right there, the ladies are always clean, do what they say they will, and never rip you off. They got some really nice looking ladies in there, too. I know you still carry the torch for Sue, and she was a great woman, bless her soul. But you know, a man has needs, and guys like us are on this old highway day in and out. We don't have time to do the usual dating, and most women like a man that hangs around the house at night."

So Bud had taken to stopping at the Morning Glory. He knew it was all business, but the women were friendly, and he could snuggle up to a warm female body, and almost feel like he had when Sue was still waiting at home for him.

The wooden stairs creaked under his heavy tread as he stepped into the old, two story hotel. Several women sat in the Lobby on couches, some reading, some watching the TV mounted up on the wall. They all gave him the once over, and then Carol, a 30 something blonde, smiled and called out, "Hey, Lexy, Bud's here!"

Bud gulped as his favorite girl Lexy languidly rose to her feet. Lexy was middle-aged and of medium height, with a severely lean body, and shoulder length blonde hair. She was dressed in black slacks and a white blouse. She smiled almost sleepily at the big trucker, and said, in her deep voice, which sent shivers down his spine, "Good to see you again, Bud."

The powerful looking man at the counter smiled at the pair as Lexy filled the register out and Bud followed her up the stairs to her room. Bud was an old and trusted customer. Lexy's tight black slacks filled Bud's eyes as he followed her up the stairs, though Bud tried not to stare too openly.

Bud followed her into the little bedroom at the head of the stairs. Lexy said, "It really is good to see you again, Bud. Do you want the usual?"

"Sure, Lexy, with you, the usual is great."

Bud eagerly pulled the two hundred dollar bills from his wallet and handed them to the woman. Lexy smiled back, and undressing the big customer, gave him his money's worth for the hour he paid for, panting and moaning at all the correct times, but still gently telling him goodbye at the end of the time.

She knew Bud was really taken with her, and had even asked her out once. "Sorry, Bud, you know I can't date my customers. I like you, I really do, but lets just leave it like this, ok?"

Still, she sometimes thought of leaving this life behind, but knowing she couldn't. She had fallen too far to think of having a normal life now.

When she had seen the satisfied trucker on his way, she had turned in her money to the tough looking guard at the desk, and walked into the town to the small trailer she was living in. She scooped the mail out of the mailbox, and going into her trailer, had dropped it on the table, locking the front door behind her.

Following her set pattern, she took a long, hot shower, wrapping herself in a fluffy bathrobe, before doing anything else. Only then did she think about her mail. Several fliers for local stores went right into the trash, and then she hesitated. Her old name was on a small newsletter that said "Greetings, Lawndale High Class of 2002!" A sad smile formed on her face, as a tear ran down her cheek. She hesitated, half ready to tear it to shreds, then sat down with it at her small kitchen table, looking through the list of names and occupations. Quinn Morgendorffer, founder of Morning Village cosmetics, a powerful new entry in the business world. Stacy "Racing" Rowe, top contender for the current NASCAR title. "Madame Tiffany" Blum-Deckler, psychic hotline operator. Names of several other people she had once known, boys she had dated, girls she had known, and at the very bottom, her own name. "Anybody knowing the name of this student please contact the Reunion Committee."

Her dad must have sent this onto her, since he was the only one from home she had given her mailing address to. Her mother and brothers had disowned her years ago, but he still sent her the occasional card, and Christmas present.

Lexy sighed. A very poor showing at Middleton College, a string of bad marriages, and a miscarriage had decimated her life. Her last husband had left his gambling debt's to her, so when he died of a heart attack, she had to run fast and far, hiding where she could, taking any job she could.

Leaving the newsletter on the table, she turned off the trailer lights and walked down the short hall into her tiny bedroom. She crawled under the covers, searching for her only sleeping companion these days, the life-sized stuffed penguin her first husband had won for her at a carnival, and that she had named after him. Holding up the blandly smiling toy, she smiled back at him, even though tears were running down her face.

"Good night, Roger," Sandi Griffin said.

Lyrics from the song, "Lying Eyes", performed by The Eagles.


End file.
